


Wawffactor

by falsteloj



Category: Young Dracula
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-15
Updated: 2012-09-15
Packaged: 2017-11-14 07:25:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/512780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falsteloj/pseuds/falsteloj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Vlad gets to meet the extended Branagh family, and Robin gets jealous.</p><p>(I have a ton more YD stuff - you can find story summaries, etc, by clicking <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/512861/chapters/27201609">HERE</a>.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wawffactor

"Do we 'ave to watch this?" Robin scowled at the television, glancing longingly at the living room window. If only he could escape to the castle.  
  
"Yes," Mr. Branagh answered brusquely, using the remote to turn the volume up a few extra notches. "This is your heritage."  
  
Robin watched as the opening credits started; the cheesy music and gameshow-esque sparkle as he presenter grinned toothily at the camera. If this was all they had to show for millennia of civilisation they might as well just give up now, he thought bitterly.  
  
"We've got to give Dyfan our support, Robin," Mrs. Branagh added, gesturing at the screen. "He could be the next Gareth Gates."  
  
"He already is." Robin said, adding under his breath, "A loser."  
  
"I could be on this," Paul said, taking a brief time out from stuffing his face with biscuits, "with my guitar."  
  
"You can't speak Welsh," Chloe pointed out, not looking up from her book. Robin thought it was unfair that she got away with reading some textbook when his own copy of ' _Bloodthirsty Babes Down Under_ ' had been confiscated for the duration.  
  
Paul shrugged, "I could get by, like. To be on the telly."  
  
"I'll have to give Alys a ring after," Mrs. Branagh said excitedly, ignoring Mr. Branagh's shushing, "I can't believe it. Dyfan's going to be a star!"  
  
Robin looked at her in disbelief, "It's 'Wawffactor' not X Factor. There's probably only us and some sheep watching it."  
  
It was too late; Dyfan was on screen, dressed head to toe in black – which was his look, just because Dyfan was older didn't mean he had it first – and giving the judges some sob story about how he was doing it in memory of his Nan. Who he had hardly ever bothered to visit.  
  
"Hasn't he got a beautiful voice?"  
  
Mr. Branagh nodded, "He gets it from my side of the family."  
  
Robin scowled. It was only the auditions stage and he was already sick of hearing about  _Dyfan_.

* * *

"He thinks he's so amazing," Robin spat, gesticulating wildly as he leant back against Vlad's pillows, "just because he can sing a bit. So what! I'm an awesome artist but I don't keep going on about it."

Vlad bit at his lip and looked away. Robin would not be happy to have the truth pointed out to him, he knew from experience.  
  
"I don't see why we 'ave to go up there anyway. He's not going to get into the finals. Even if he does they're filming it in Bangor," he stressed the last as if it explained his animosity to the entire situation. "I told my Mam; if Vlad can't come, I'm not going. End of."  
  
"Er, thanks?" Vlad shook his head and scooted closer to Robin. As close as he dared at least. That was another conversation he got the sinking feeling Robin wouldn't be a fan of. "So," Vlad frowned, "you're not going to visit your cousin because I can't go?"  
  
"What?" Robin pulled a face, as if he thought Vlad were being particularly dense. "Don't be stupid. We're both going." Vlad gaped but before he had chance to say anything Robin went on, "We're going to have to share a room with him, you can see what a weirdo he is. I'm telling you…"  
  
Vlad tuned him out, so that the sound of Robin's voice washed over him without any of the detail. This was probably a bad idea on many levels, so close to his transformation.

Even so, he was already planning how to convince his Dad to let him go.

* * *

Ingrid was sneering at them, looking more threatening than usual with her fingernails filed into sharp points, and the high collar of her cape framing her face.

"Don't you mean X Factor?"  
  
"No," Robin grimaced, "trust me; she means Wawffactor."  
  
Mrs. Branagh was oblivious, smiling up at the Count, "It would be very educational for him, Mr. Count. I bet he's never heard anyone speaking Welsh on a day to day basis before."  
  
"Speaking what?" The Count frowned haughtily. Addressing Vlad he asked, "Is this more of your breather slang?" He punctuated it with a poor attempt at a gangsta hand flick and Robin had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself laughing. He imagined Vlad trying to be street and bit down harder.  
  
"It's the oldest living language in Europe, Count," Mr. Branagh cut in smugly, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Oh, yes, you won't find culture like this anywhere else."  
  
"Peasants, fighting amongst themselves for money? I seem to remember seeing a lot of that back in Transylvania."  
  
Mr. Branagh huffed and spluttered, Ingrid smirked smugly. The Count slouched into his throne, crossing his legs at the ankle. "Vladdy has lots of important work to do here," he gestured over at a suspiciously red stained sheep skin on the floor at his feet. "Practice, practice and more practice; that's what he needs now."  
  
"Please let me go, Dad," Vlad whined. "Please." He plastered his most endearing expression on his face, crossing his fingers at his sides.  
  
"Hoping to creep up on Branagh whilst he's asleep, are you?" Ingrid hissed quietly, "I heard all about how you 'forgot' your sleeping bag on that camping trip."  
  
Vlad flushed and looked nervously over at Robin, hoping he hadn't heard. The Count however leaned forward eagerly, "Is that how it is, Vlad? You want to practice on a human neck? That's my boy!"  
  
"Actually-"  
  
"Vlad," Robin grinned, attention trained back on him, oblivious to the how of the Count granting permission, "you're coming?"  
  
Renfield sniffled loudly from his place behind the throne,

"They grow up so quickly, Master."

* * *

"Stacey, babe," Ian said into his mobile phone handset as he clambered into the campervan, Vlad scrabbling in behind him and collapsing into a seat next to Robin. "Of course I'm going to miss you."

"Thanks for this, Vlad," Robin said earnestly, "You 'ave no idea how awful it's going to be."  
  
"You're not really selling it well, Robin," Vlad grinned, searching in his backpack for the sweets he'd picked up that morning, grinning at the way Robin's eyes lit up as he handed him a packet.  
  
"I'll be thinking of you every minute," Ian was saying and Robin raised an eyebrow, grinning. Vlad grinned back and settled into the seat, shifting slightly so that their arms were pressed together lightly. When Robin didn't pull away he relaxed, watching with interest as Ian finished his call.  
  
Ian looked up, "Gotta keep them sweet, eh?" Paul was still nodding seriously when the phone rang again. Ian answered it, "Kayleigh, baby, of course I'm going to miss you."  
  
Robin nudged him in amusement as Mr. Branagh started up the van. Vlad beamed. This was going to be the best half term holiday ever.

* * *

"This is BBC Radio Wales with the latest traffic news…"

"Aw, can't we 'ave something decent on?" Robin whined, squirming in his seat and jarring Vlad from his comfortable position leaning against him. He looked at his iPod mournfully, "My battery's dead."  
  
"Yeah," Paul protested, "the rugby's on."  
  
"I said something decent."  
  
Mrs. Branagh cut in dreamily, "How about a bit of music? We could have a little sing song." Robin gaped in horror as Mr. Branagh began flicking through the channels, each being met with groaning from over half of the van's occupants.  
  
"That's it," he snapped eventually, "We're having this on. No arguments."  
  
Vlad listened carefully, deciphering the words. "The latest farming news with Dei Tomos?"  
  
Chloe peered at him speculatively, "You understood that?" The twins and Robin looked up at him too, Vlad feeling his cheeks heat up under the close scrutiny. He shrugged, saying easily,  
  
"I like languages."  
  
It was true, and not just because being a vampire meant he could pick them up with minimal effort. It had been his favourite thing to study with his old governess. Not least because it was the only subject that didn't merit a practical demonstration involving local peasants and the draining of blood. He could tell Robin wasn't impressed so nudged him slightly with his shoulder, "Should help me chat up all the girls." It didn't go down as well as he'd expected; Robin just scowled harder.  
  
"You hear that, Robin," Mr. Branagh said, looking at him through the mirror, "Vlad speaks your own language better than you do."  
  
Robin scowled, "It's not my own language." Vlad tried to give him an apologetic smile but Robin just turned away, so he was facing out of the window. " _Swot._ "  
  
Vlad had never met anyone who was as accomplished at holding a grudge as Robin. And with Count Dracula for a father and Ingrid for a sister he thought that was saying something. By the time they reached their destination Robin's standoffishness was only just beginning to thaw. Vlad knew he wouldn't have chance to enjoy it as Mrs. Branagh's exclamation of "Doesn't Dyfan look smart?" took things right back to sub-zero temperatures.  
  
He stood uncomfortably to one side as hugs and comments about growth spurts were exchanged, feeling awkward and out of place. Mrs. Branagh noticed then and tugged him firmly into the centre of proceedings by his arm. "This is Vlad, Robin's friend." The twins nudged their cousins and sniggered, Vlad almost certain he heard the words 'special friend'.  
  
"From Transylvania," Mrs. Branagh elaborated, smiling widely at Robin's Aunt Alys and a man, who from his close resemblance to Mr. Branagh, Vlad assumed must be Robin's uncle.  
  
"See Bryn, the children are getting a cosmopolitan education in Stokely," Mr. Branagh said smugly, more than a hint of competition in his voice. Robin shook his head and grabbed Vlad's arm before the man could answer, whispering,  
  
"Come on, they'll be ages once they get started." Vlad followed meekly. He was just glad Robin was still seeing fit to speak to him.

* * *

* * *

Back in Stokely the Count howled, "What is going on here!" He glared, rubbing at his shin where he had knocked it into one of the pieces of furniture littering the darkened corridor.

Ingrid stuck her head round Vlad's bedroom door and smirked. "I'm having a clear out."  
  
"These belong to your brother."  
  
"Exactly," Ingrid rolled her eyes. "I'm clearing them out to make space for my things." She went back inside, her voice carrying, "If he'd wanted this room so badly he'd stay and keep an eye on it." The Count scowled and pushed a chair out of the way so he could reach the staircase.  
  
Inside Ingrid leant against the window frame, peering out through the cracks in the shuttered window before glowering darkly at Zoltan. "What are you looking at, fleabag? Unless you want to see how quickly stuffing goes up in flames," she held a hand up, palm facing outwards, "Scram!"  
  
Zoltan wheeled himself away and Ingrid grinned. It was just too easy.

* * *

* * *

"Robin  _bach_ ," a thickly accented voice drawled. Vlad looked up to see one of the boys from earlier leaning nonchantly against the door frame, smirk plastered across his face. He looked a bit older than them, all dark hair and darker clothing. Exactly how he imagined Robin might look in a few years time. Vlad looked away.

"I'm not a kid," Robin scowled.  
  
"Whatever," the boy answered, dropping down to sit on the bed next to Vlad. Not wanting to look him in the eye Vlad let his gaze travel across the room, taking in the clothes and records piled haphazardly all over the place, and the guitars lining the far wall. "Do you play?" He asked, eyebrow raised.  
  
"Only Kumbaya," Robin answered for him, to Vlad's humiliation, "Dad taught him."  
  
"More than you can do, I bet."  
  
"Shut up, Dyfan. Shouldn't you be practicing for Wawffactor or something?" Robin asked sarcastically. "What's the prize this year, a sheep of your very own?"  
  
They were staring each other down now and Vlad supposed he should have realised the Robin lookalike would be Dyfan.  
  
They were so alike they couldn't stand each other.

* * *

The next morning Vlad woke up to find himself alone. He got dressed quickly and went downstairs in search of Robin. Just as he was about to enter the kitchen he heard his name and held back, curious, listening at the door.

"Vlad's a lovely boy," Mrs Branagh was saying, "but Robin needs to find other friends. Graham says it's awful unhealthy."  
  
"Don't worry," a voice that unmistakably belonged to Aunt Alys soothed, "Dyfan was the same. But look at him now!" The tone changed suddenly, the sound of the kitchen door slamming shut reverberating through the thin walls. "Boys, there you are!"   
  
Smoothing down his shirt Vlad stood up straight and made his way into the kitchen for breakfast. Mrs. Branagh told him he was looking smart and he smiled back politely, ignoring Robin's look of disgust. He had a reputation to maintain.  
  
Afternoon found him sat back in the bedroom he was sharing with Robin and Dyfan for the next couple of days. The former having been roped in by Mr. Branagh to go and watch him play his brother at squash and, in Mr. Branagh's own words, give him a thrashing. Vlad got the impression there were a lot of unresolved issues there.  
  
He eyed the nearest guitar up with interest, glancing at the door furtively before picking it up and strumming at it experimentally.  
  
"You want to hold it a little looser."  
  
Vlad jumped in surprise, narrowly avoiding dropping the guitar to the floor. "Sorry, I shouldn't have taken it without asking."  
  
"Don't worry about it," Dyfan said with a dismissive wave of his hand, gesturing for him to sit down – with the guitar. He sat next to Vlad, so close it was all Vlad could do not to think about just how alike he and Robin were. He inhaled deeply; they even wore the same aftershave. "I could teach you how to play if you like."  
  
"Really?" Vlad gave him a genuine smile before remembering something. "But shouldn't you be practicing?"  
  
"It's not school," Dyfan scoffed. "And it's only for S4C. But," he grinned, all dimples and Vlad felt his stomach squirm in the same way it did when Robin bestowed that same smile on him, "don't tell my Mam that."  
  
He'd started to master the finger placement when Robin appeared in the doorway, face dropping as he took in the sight. Vlad offered him a smile, not liking the way the atmosphere had immediately tensed up but not knowing how to change it. "How was the match?"  
  
Robin didn't answer, instead giving him an icy look. "Cozy in here, innit?"  
  
"Dyfan's been teaching me how to play. Look," Vlad made to give Robin a demonstration but the other boy shook his head.  
  
"You're alright, thanks." He gave Dyfan one last narrow eyed look before storming back in the direction he'd just come.  
  
"Leave him," Dyfan told him smoothly, reading his thoughts. "He needs time to cool off; I used to be exactly the same."  
  
"What? Hot tempered?" Vlad offered.  
  
"Nah," Dyfan smirked. "A dick."

* * *

Dyfan had to be at the studio the next day so Vlad was left with the other kids to go and 'explore'. Chloe made straight for the museum without consulting anyone. The twins and Robin's elder cousins, Cai and Gethin, went to play rugby. Which left him and Robin. And, as Robin was refusing to acknowledge his existence, the fun soon wore off there.

"Robin," he started, "Don't be like this. I thought you wanted me to come."  
  
He didn't even get a grunt in response, Robin keeping his head resolutely stuck in ' _Bloodthirsty Babes Down Under_ '. Vlad felt his temper rising at being given the brush off for some trashy vampire action. If Robin wanted to get hot under the collar with a vampire, well,  _he_ was right in front of him.  
  
"You're being childish." When he still didn't get a reaction Vlad went in for the kill, "I think Dyfan's really nice. You're just jealous because everyone likes him."  
  
That one hit its mark, he could tell. The murderous look on Robin's face was enough without the way he threw the book to the floor and got to his feet, jabbing a finger in his face. "That's what you think, is it?"  
  
Vlad shrugged stubbornly, refusing to back down. "That's what it looks like to me."  
  
Robin stared at him intently for a long moment. "Fine, whatever. I don't care."  
  
Vlad watched him slam from the room with an ache in his chest.

It felt like he'd only spited himself.

* * *

"Isn't this exciting?" Mrs. Branagh beamed that night, steering him towards their seats with one hand on his shoulder. Vlad looked behind him longingly, but Robin was too busy ignoring him. "Turn that phone off, Ian," she scolded as they sat down. "Your infidelity will have to wait 'til after."

  
Chloe snorted with surprised laughter and a couple sat in front of them turned round to glare. Vlad sank into the seat and tried to fix his gaze on the stage, unable to stop himself looking at Robin every 30 seconds all the same.  
  
"I can't even understand what they're saying," Robin hissed as the presenter bounced onto the stage and Vlad wrung his hands together in frustration. It was going to be a long night.

Even Robin looked anxious as they neared the end though, Dyfan and his opponent, a pretty girl with long blonde hair, stood waiting for the judges' decision. Mrs. Branagh was peering through her fingers, murmuring "I can't watch" under her breath.

The seconds ticked by, tension rising, and then Dyfan's name was called out and Mrs. Branagh made enough noise next to him to make him fear for the safety of his ear drum. The twins clapped their cousin across the back as soon as they were allowed to see him, the whole family crowding around to congratulate him. Except Robin.  
  
He met Robin's gaze as he was shaking Dyfan's hand, surprised to see the extent of the anger written clear across his face, before Robin turned and stormed off. Mrs. Branagh pulled Dyfan tight into another hug and Vlad took the opportunity to follow Robin. He found him outside, sat on the low wall encircling the car park, his coat pulled tight around him in the freezing winter air.  
  
Vlad sat down next to him, pretending not to notice the way Robin was scowling at him. "Are you going to tell me what the problem is?"  
  
"You know what the problem is."  
  
He sighed, why did Robin choose now to be cryptic about things? "I really don't, Robin." Vlad pushed his hands into his coat pockets, wondering why they couldn't be having this talk indoors.  
  
Robin shook his head, looking out into the far distance. "Should have known you'd prefer him. Like you said, everyone else does." The tone was bitter and Vlad had to resist the urge to roll his eyes.  
  
"Maybe if you tried being nicer to people, they'd like you too."  
  
"Yeah, that's right," Robin mocked, "It's all my fault." He pushed in closer to Vlad, close enough for his breath to mist across his face, making him shiver. "I wasn't the one who started it."  
  
"Started what!" Vlad asked in frustration, "What are you talking about!" The biting cold really wasn't helping his mood.  
  
"Don't act all innocent," Robin snapped, looking away. "You can't just lead someone on and then ditch them when you find a better version."  
  
Vlad startled at that, turning the words over in his mind to make sure he had understood correctly. "He's not a better version of you," he said carefully, scarcely daring to believe he'd been such an idiot. All that time he'd spent afraid that Robin would work it out, and Robin already knew. Wanted him back. He grinned crookedly at Robin, "There's nobody better than you. You should know that, you tell me often enough."  
  
Robin gave him a searching look, dark eyes boring into him. "So you don't fancy him?"  
  
"Of course not," Vlad lied smoothly. He wasn't a total idiot. "He was just teaching me how to play the guitar, that's all." He shrugged, trying to lighten the mood, "It was either him or your dad."  
  
"Vlad," Robin grinned at him, pressing cold fingers to his cheek, "I'm sorry for sulking."  
  
"It's alright. I'm sorry too."  
  
Robin gave him a puzzled look, "For what?"  
  
"For waiting so long," Vlad leant in closer still, hovering just above Robin's lips, "to do this."

* * *

"Robin!" Mrs. Branagh called. "Robin!" Ian scowled at her as he pressed his phone closer to his ear, trying and failing to get a word in, the sound of ranting escaping the tinny speaker.

"Have we lost one?" Aunt Alys asked.  
  
"No, two," Chloe piped up. "Vlad's gone too."  
  
"Calm down," Dyfan grinned, gesturing at the window behind them. "They 'aven't gone far."  
  
"Ugh," Paul pulled a face. "I could 'ave gone my whole life without seeing that." Gethin flung an arm around his shoulder, the other around Dyfan's,  
  
"Aw, and I thought he fancied you."  
  
"Shut up," Dyfan snorted. "Everyone fancies me, you know that."  
  
"They will now, butt," Paul told him. "Girls love anyone who's been on telly." Ian clapped his phone shut viciously, jamming it in his pocket,  
  
"Girls?" He looked at them all seriously, "You're better off not bothering."  
  
"Taking tips out of Robin's book now are you?" Gethin asked, smirking. It was three days before Ian got it.

* * *

 

 _ **Epilogue**_.  
  
"Thanks for letting me come," Vlad told Mr. and Mrs. Branagh politely. "I had a really good time."

Paul nudged Chloe, sniggering,  
  
"I bet he did."  
  
Robin scowled at them but kept quiet.  
  
"That's quite alright, Vlad," Mr. Branagh assured him. "Always nice to have someone around with a pleasant disposition," he eyed Robin up pointedly.  
  
"I want you home by teatime, Robin," Mrs. Branagh warned.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. See you later," Robin slammed the van door shut and hefted Vlad's backpack to one shoulder. Vlad raised an eyebrow and he gave him a long suffering look in return. "What are you waiting for? I thought we'd never get any privacy."  
  
Vlad grinned in understanding and rushed to open the castle door, creeping through the hallway as quietly as he could – his dad wouldn't be awake at this time in the afternoon if he was lucky – and up the stairs to his bedroom, Robin following close behind. When they reached his bedroom door he pulled Robin down into a kiss, fumbling with the door handle and walking backwards towards his bed.  
  
Which wasn't there.  
  
"As thrilling as watching you two swap spit isn't," Ingrid sweeped her gaze up and down them both coolly, "Could you do me a favour and get out of my room? Now!"  
  
"This is my room," Vlad protested, taking in Ingrid's posters with a grimace. "It's always been my room."  
  
Ingrid shrugged indifferently. "And now it's mine."  
  
Robin tugged at his hand, "Come on." Vlad glared at his sister one last time before leaving, trying not to let her triumphant smirk get to him. He'd sort it out.  
  
Later.

**Author's Note:**

> As ever, feel free to chat / hit me with prompts over on Tumblr [@serenwib](http://serenwib.tumblr.com/) or Twitter [@falsteloj](https://twitter.com/falsteloj). :)


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